Tattered
by TheAUWalker
Summary: He was tattered, discarded, unwanted. Alois had lost the will to move so he lay on the cold stone, rain on his face. He thought it might've been the end, but when that white-gloved hand was extended to him, life didn't seem like it was over anymore. One-shot. Slight AU.


**A/N: This story is a little fic about what might've happened to Alois if Claude never came(basically, Alois couldn't summon him because Claude the demon didn't exist). It's the story of his feelings as he runs away.**

**However, there is AU Claude in this.**

**I don't own Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler, and remember, reviews give warm blankets and hot chocolate to Alois.**

**-o-o**

He pushed through the crowd, his mouth open in a desperate, chest-heaving cry. No one noticied and no one cared, all he was given were glares as they shouldered past him, too troubled with their own lives.

Alois could _feel_ the dried blood on his skin, and it made him sick. He wanted it off, he wanted to be clean.

But he would never be clean.

His clothes, his normal clothes, were not much more than shredded rags. The rich, warm, furry and velvet ones he had been given had been discarded long ago, now probably owned by some lucky bystander.

Alois had not stopped running and didn't think he ever would

His bare feet were bleeding, he could tell, but even the pain cutting through him from his toes and his weary, sore body could not make him stop.

The cold breeze was like ice on his skin.

So many _people_ and Alois was paranoid. It seemed like everyone was looking at him, everyone was connected to the horrible place, everyone was coming to get him.

Even as screams ripped through his throat and his breath tore through his chest in dry gasps no one cared.

There was too much noise, the noise from workers yelling and shopkeepers yelling and factories and boats.

Even the people who he directly bumped into and _looked into his eyes_ did not care, they had their own problems. No one wanted to help a boy who looked like a noble gone beggar, terror in his eyes.

He was never going back to that hell, not ever.

The fairy, the whatever it was, hadn't come. It hadn't saved him and he had been heartbroken, angry at himself that he believed.

No one laughed at him because all of the boys had tried it themselves.

They hoped that maybe someone would succed and then it could take all of them away, even if it was Jim.

_Alois_.

He wasn't so sure he wanted to be Alois Trancy anymore.

Where did Jim Macken go? Why was he so intent on climbing his way to the top?

Even if it was him and they would smile and laugh, they all hated him because he was treated better than anyone else.

Better clothes and better care, more freedom.

They hated him.

Luka was gone, his brother was gone, and he had become insane, working his way to the top and it had just all gone wrong.

He did not want to be Alois, he wanted to be Jim.

Tears filled his eyes.

The blonde caught his reflection, fleeting, blurred, in a shop window as he went by. Bare legs and feet streaked with blood and dirt, tattered clothes, smudges of mud, dried blood, dripping blood.

His foot caught on a stone that was not quite packed down like the others, but something you wouldn't notice unless you had bare feet.

Alois went sprawling with a small scream at the explosion of pain in his foot.

He went tumbling into a row of rubbish bins and a few were empty, making a hollow clanging noise as they rattled around and the lids rained down on the thin boy.

Alois did not move.

He lay, slowly curling into a ball, a gray lid balancing on his ankle and bins lying on top of him, trash scattered around his face.

Alois closed weary eyes as it started to rain.

He had no more will to walk, and so there he would stay, overlooked by passerby and the non-existant searchers.

The Earl Trancy didn't care if he was gone, no one would believe the boy's stories.

But there was one moment where he might have been hallucinating, maybe his ribs were just throbbing so, but there was a nudge at his chest, and Alois cracked open an eye.

A tall, black-haired man stood in front of him, in a long, dark coat, holding a black umbrella that let half of Alois's body out of the rain.

"You." the man said impatiently, green eyes behind square glasses. "What are you doing down there?"

Alois did not answer because he did not have the energy to. He tried, he opened his mouth and moved his lips, but no words came out.

"Hey." the man said in a more gentle tone, bending down, offering a hand.

Alois cracked a smile, so full of relief and just _thank you_, thank you, _please get me out of here._

The man was uncertain why he was smiling, Alois could see it reflected in his eyes, but he began to move aside the bins and pick Alois up like he was not discarded, like he was not tattered.

"Claude Faustus." the man murmured into Alois's ear, holding him against his chest with one arm, the other holding the umbrella.

But maybe he _did_ want to be Alois Trancy, because Jim was behind him now, his old past.

Because Alois would always make it.

Alois curled his fingers into Claude's coat, resting his head on the man's shoulder and closing his eyes.

"Thank you."

It barely made it past his lips and Claude almost didn't catch it.

He pushed his glasses up his nose with a single finger and smiled at the cobblestones.

_Yes, your highness._


End file.
